You know this is 1968, Dr. King--
I want you to keep with that feeling, you know, the way you were feeling at that point in time. It's, it's, um, been a long hard year at that point. Dr. King's died, the people have really in a state of flux, a state of shock, Bobby Kennedy has died, Resurrection City has come to a less than happy end, thinking the way you felt then, did the movement go into hiding? Did the movement die?
I tell you, I was just so desolate at that point. I'm speaking about me, personally. I came home and my husband told me I guess, I remember having lost twenty-five pounds over a couple of months. My way of grieving was not always to cry, I was always too busy, but, ah, I don't think, I think the movement had lost its heart, and its conscience. I think that we tried to keep up what Martin had laid out as his great plan, but I don't think we had anybody who could control it enough to make it work. And inspire enough people to continue. I think that was the tragic thing. The tragic thing, I think, all the leaders--none of them: Martin, Whitney, Roy--ever groomed anybody else to take their place; that may be arrogance, ego, I don't know how to explain it, but, sitting here now, I think about that, and I do know that none of them did that. They all thought they were going to live forever, you know. Although, Martin always said he would die young.